


what a paire

by impulsemomentum



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff, M/M, and benoit puns, getting Gay Married, i wrote this at 1am please don’t judge, the press are dummies, there are way too many tennis puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impulsemomentum/pseuds/impulsemomentum
Summary: They try really, really hard. They really do.(Or, where Ben and Stan get engaged and try to tell the press, but the press won’t let them.)





	what a paire

**Author's Note:**

> bonus points if you can spot on the tennis/benoit puns i put in there because oh boy there are quite a few. i really need to stop writing things at 1 in the morning when i have a midterm tomorrow.
> 
> oh also: pls assume they’re just speaking french i don’t speak enough french to write in it
> 
> oh also also: none of this is true, donna is actually rly nice, pls don’t judge

“Stan.”

Poke.

“Hnnnmmpph?”

“Staaaan.”

Poke.

Poke.

“Stanislas.”

A particularly insistent poke to the chest finally proves successful, and Stan mumbles something unintelligible, reaching out instinctually and smushing a hand all over Benoit's face without a care in the world. Benoit starts, making indignant noises muffled under the calloused palm as Stan draws his other hand over his face blearily, wondering why on Earth he fell in love with Ben, of all people.

When Benoit gives up on mumbling expletives and starts slapping Stan on the side, Stan hastily draws his hand back, and stares into Benoit's stupidly-attractive-for-having-just-woken-up face. Really, Stan really doesn’t understand how someone with that beard can wake up so flawless. Damn him. Why is his boyfriend so stupid, _stupidly_ ho-

“What, you’d rather be angry than look at your incredibly attractive and artfully disheveled boyfriend?” Benoit pouts, propping himself up with one elbow.

Stan glares - he really is too lanky to pull that off but somehow he does, the bastard - but finally concedes, flopping back onto the bed with a huff. “What did you wake me up at this godforsaken hour for?”

Benoit raises an eyebrow. “You do realise it’s nine in the morning?”

Stan opens his mouth to retort automatically, then realises that there’s really nothing he can say to that, and at this point his mouth has been open for long enough that he’s starting to look like a fish, really why is Ben still attracted to hi-

“Ruggedly attractive boyfriend is here, not in your thoughts.” Benoit resumes his pouting, poking a finger into Stan's chest. “Well, unless he’s there too, but I’d think you’d like the real thing more, no?”

Stan groans, running a hand through his definitely not artfully disheveled hair. “Please just get whatever you were going to say over with so I can go back to bed and never leave again.”

“Riiiiiiight.” Ben really has the best features for making sceptical faces. Unfair. “Well then you’d better listen, because I don’t think you’re gonna want to go back to bed after this.”

“I somehow doubt it.” Stan mutters quietly, but apparently not quiet enough because his chest is soon the recipient of yet another Insistent Ben Finger (at this point Stan's basically discovered it, he should get to name it). He yelps, but finally settles down, turning to Ben obediently.

Ben's face breaks out into a genuine grin, not a smirk or a playful smile, those designed to woo press and fans, but a genuine, sunlight, making-Stan-dizzy-with-love grin. “Stanislas Wawrinka, will you marry me?”

By the time Stan’s recovered from his impromptu heart attack, Ben is on the floor, one knee bent, ring gripped tightly and extended towards him. Stan vaguely registers that behind his confident grin is the doubt behind his eyes that he’s learned to look out for, but Stan’s too busy hyperventilating because oh my god Ben's on his knees with a ring-

“This probably has to be the worst time for you to zone out.” Benoit's lips are twisted into a little rueful grin, and he’s beginning to stand up, retracting the hand holding the ring. “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, sorry for springing it on you, I guess I ju-“

“You bastard.” Stan doesn’t even mean to say it, but it’s out there, so there’s nothing to do but to keep going, the rational part of his mind supposes. “This is absolutely the worst fucking proposal. This is the worst way to get engaged. _Ever_.”

Benoit freezes, halfway to putting the ring back into his pocket. “Engaged?”

“Yes, you idiot.” Stan gets up from the bed, still slightly dazed. “Yes, of course I’m going to fucking marry you.” He takes the ring from Ben's limp fingers and jams it onto his own, in the space where nothing has occupied for a long time. “But just for the record? The wedding better be fucking spectacular to make up for this.”

Ben's face morphs into the biggest, brightest smile Stan has ever seen, and his heart flutters with so much love for this man that he has to smile too, and then they’re colliding with each other, hands scrabbling, years of careful exploration and knowledge thrown out the window as they desperately come together, kissing so hard Stan sees stars behind his eyes.

They topple back onto the bed after that, and true to Stan's word, they don’t get back up for a while.

Later, cuddling after a fresh shower, Stan feels Ben shifting behind him, his beard softly tickling Stan's neck. “Are you...” Ben starts up hesitantly, breath ghosting over Stan's shoulder. “Are you sure? About getting married?”

Where Ben can’t see him, Stan allows himself a small, satisfied, lovestruck smile. “Of course I am, you idiot. I love you.”

“Oh.” The word comes out as an exhale, and Ben relaxes behind him. “I love you too, you dummy.”

————————————————————-

If they’re getting married, Stan insists, they should probably come out to the press soon. Of course, most players in their respective circles already know, but they’ve somehow managed to avoid all media attention past the one or two articles on their new doubles partnership. Ben, on the other hand, is firmly of the opinion that the media deserves a couple metaphorical slice dropshots that go back across the net because of their collective opinion of Benoit. He was just trying to play his game! Ball abuse, really?

But anyway. Benoit agrees, because Benoit is a good boyfr-fiancé. He’s a good fiancé. That’s right, his heart tells him giddily, you’re the fiancé of Stanislas Wawrinka, arguably one of the most perfect human beings on the planet (have you seen his Body Issue photos, come _on_ ).

But _anyway_. It’s not that Ben doesn’t try, it’s really not. He tries really hard. Both he and Stan begin to appear together more often, and Ben steals one of Stan's Stanimal shirts to wear around, sponsors (and fashion sense, Stan really needs to get rid of those shorts) be damned.

The thing is that, the media is _really_  bent on seeing only what they want to see.

Articles start floating around about “Paire and Wawrinka's friendship rekindled”, about how they might play more doubles once Stan's knee recovers, about “awww how nice is it for tennis to get another bromance”, but nothing, _nothing_ , even remotely close to “Paire and Wawrinka are going to get Gay Married™”, not even a “Paire and Wawrinka involved in secret gay tryst”.

Okay, Ben figures, he’s going to have to try harder. So he and Stan start wearing their engagement rings around. Their _matching_ engagement rings. No, really.

To be faire (haha), that does get a rise out of the press, but not quite the rise they were going for. Reporters start cooing about how it’s just so adorable that these two best friends are going to get married at the same time. Rumours start flying around that Stan's going to marry Donna (really, Ben scoffs, Donna? _Really_?), and Ben gains at least a thousand Twitter followers just from tennis fans bored enough to hunt through his past tweets for a hint or two about his mystery fiancée.

At this point, Ben's just as invested in this as Stan is, maybe even more, and he’s determined to get those idiot reporters to see that yes, Stan is in fact going to get married to me, Benoit Paire, and you had no idea, without actually coming out and saying it. Stan just stands off to the side, arms crossed as he regards Ben's tirade with amusement, drawing him in for a kiss when he finishes. Well, Ben figures, that probably makes up for more than all the frustration the reporters have given him, so he won’t complain too much.

So. Ben and Stan keep wearing their rings, and Ben graduates to (oh god) sometimes wearing Stan's really ugly Roland-Garros shorts, and they go on so many dates that at this point Ben really suspects the press thinks that gay tennis players don’t exist.

Everything changes in Miami.

Stan's still recovering, but he stubbornly insists on accompanying Ben to Miami, insisting that yes, he can check out possible wedding locations and no, Ben's not going to lose in the first round and embarrass himself in front of Stan, he’s going to do great. Ben has his doubts, but he’s a good fiancé and so they show up in Miami together, despite Stan's withdrawal. This particular piece of news makes some media hounds perk up, and finally, _finally_ , whispers are starting to fly around about what is going on. Ben resolutely ignores it for now, squashing down the little tendrils of smugness rising up in his chest, gleefully exclaiming things like “finally!” and “you’ll see” and focusing on preparing for his match.

It’s a tough draw; he’s put up against Zverev the older, and as much as he tries not to let it, the US Open defeat stings. Still, he tells himself that he has to win, come on, Stan Wawrinka's watching, he has to.

The match gets off to a really bad start; he can’t shake the first-round nerves, and Zverev takes full advantage, taking the first set 6-1 easily. During the break between changeovers, Ben looks up into the crowd and sees Stan, anxiously gnawing on a fingernail, and suddenly everything fades into the background but tennis and Stan. He gets back on court, and all he thinks about is playing the best tennis he can, and about Stan. A plan slowly forms in his head as he settles into a groove, hitting winners and impossible shots. Every changeover, he glances into the crowd, not even bothering to be subtle about grinning when he sees Stan gradually relaxing as the score continues to rise.

When Ben finally hits the last ball, watches the score change from 40-0, he feels his whole body unclenching, and he finally grins, not even acknowledging the crowd as he turns and stares directly into Stan's eyes, Stan who’s on his feet, clapping wildly and standing out from the rest of the polite audience. He barely registers going up to the net, shaking hands, nodding at the umpire, because the only thing he sees in his mind is Stan. Stan Stan Stan. He doesn’t even bother going back to his bench. He walks right in front of Stan, and stands there, staring up as the whispers grow around him, the small smattering of people watching his match starting to realise who he’s staring at.

Stan walks down on the court, because Stan is sensible and won’t let Ben climb any railings, but also because he seems to have sensed what Ben has planned, and he wholeheartedly agrees. Once he gets down, Ben pulls Stan close to him and tilts his chin up for a slow, tender kiss. He can feel Stan smiling against his lips and can’t help but smile back, because he hears the quiet confusion of the crowd steadily grow into a roar, and then it seems everyone is on their feet, clapping and hollering and cheering or booing. They finally break apart, and Ben can’t do anything but stare helplessly into Stan's eyes, so overwhelmed. Stan smiles, a quiet, reassuring smile, and tangles their hands together, holding them up for the world to see.

—————————————————————-

Turns out, the media didn’t really think that there were no gay tennis players in the top 200, and they did eventually recognise the matching rings. It doesn’t stop them from going absolutely insane though, not that Ben particularly minds. Turns out that showing the press they’re all idiots by kissing the male love of his life and announcing their Very Gay Engagement is pretty good revenge for having to endure all the insinuations about his attitude on court.

To be fair, it does make things pretty difficult. They can no longer go out for their regular coffee dates, not wanting the owners of the quaint coffee shop to be mobbed by eager fans and journalists. Basically no one asks them about tennis anymore, but they endure it, because they’re getting married. Ben still thinks the whole thing is a little bit surreal; he’s getting married to Stan? Stanislas Wawrinka?

They do get married, though, and the wedding was in fact pretty “fucking spectacular”, if Ben does say so himself. Their respective families had somehow managed to keep the whole thing under wraps, and they were able to keep the press entirely out of their small ceremony in Geneva.

Being married is not so different, Ben reflects, later, as Stan snores softly against his chest in the faintly humid suite of a vacation home in some tropical island or other. Stan still drools in his sleep, and he still skips off into his on thoughts more often than Ben would like, and they really have far too little sex, something that this delayed honeymoon is definitely rectifying. But, in the end - Ben smiles into Stan's hair at the thought - they do make quite the paire.


End file.
